Dragon's Blood
by SilverBlood666
Summary: Iolaus is camping in the woods when he comes across a band of dragon hunters. Now he's in a race to get to the dragon before they do... WILL FINISH!
1. Chapter 1

_Dragon's Blood - Chapter One_

_**Author's Notes:**_ I'm taking a little break from the CSI fandom. I know I promised a sequel to _If You Can't Stand the Heat…_, but inspiration isn't forthcoming at the moment. I'm hoping while I type this one up my muse will descend upon me.

_**Disclaimer:**_ StFu, I oWn NoThInG. HaPpy?

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The setting sun threw splashes of deep orange light through the openings between the leafy treetops of the forest.

He _was_ the deer, as it snagged a few leaves from a low branch to nibble on. So intent on it, that Iolaus could almost feel the muscles along the back of its neck tense when it sensed him.

If he didn't do it now, he wouldn't get another chance before dinner ran away.

Faster than the eye could follow, Iolaus knocked an arrow onto the string of his bow, aimed, and let fly just as the young buck leaped up to run.

It sped true through the leaves branches, directly into the buck's throat. It fell gracefully to it's knees and let out a keening wail that made Iolaus flinch. He sent up a quick prayer to Artemis as he sprinted over to his catch.

Iolaus knelt down beside it and put a hand on the neck. He pet him, trying to soothe away his fear.

"I'm sorry, friend," he murmured, taking a knife out of his boot.

Iolaus waited for a few minutes while it died. After his own brushes with death, the hunter believed that nothing should have to die alone, be it friend or enemy. Even an animal he'd killed himself (somewhere on Mount Olympus, Artemis smiled on the actions of her golden hunter).

When he felt the last of the buck's life trickle away, only then did he look at the knife he'd pulled out. Despite being a hunter, Iolaus still didn't enjoy what he had to do next.

Deftly, Iolaus ran his blade along the buck's stomach, mentally gagging when the smell his hit nose. Blood and entrails spilt from the cut and Iolaus dragged out what he could, given that he only had his bow, a quiver of arrows and a knife. There was nothing in his small pack slung over his shoulders that would be able to cut through bone. There was a larger pack back at his camp that held his sword, but he left it because he didn't think there was anything he'd need it against.

After he cleared it out the best he could, Iolaus wiped his bloody hands in the grass, along with his blade. When it was as clean as it was going to get for the moment, he stuck it back in his boot.

Iolaus sat back on his heels, trying to decide the best, quickest way to transport the carcass back to the fresh, cold stream back near where he'd set camp. A high pitch, screeching roar from overhead made him start and slip the dagger back out into the open.

He looked up in time to se something huge soar over the tops of the trees. It seemed to glitter in the rapidly fading sunlight.

"It's landing over there!" a gruff voice called, startlingly close. "We must have wounded it!"

Apparently, the voice wasn't alone, because there was raucous cheering at the words. Iolaus stood up and took cover behind one of the thicker tree trunks near him. He had only a few seconds to spare before a group of seven to nine men jogged by about fifteen feet away.

They were all scruffy-looking and they all wore the same black leather armor. Each one of them had a weapon, ranging from simple clubs to swords, right on up to expensive looking crossbows that Iolaus wouldn't mind owning himself.

_'Wounded…?'_ Iolaus wondered.

"We'll get that damned dragon this time!" one of them growled at the others. "Teach it not to steal our livestock!"

Iolaus had a sudden flashback to when he and Hercules dealt with a certain dragon. The hunter had learned a lesson that all dragons weren't evil, some of them were simply misunderstood.

His conscious begged him to take action and stop those hunters before they did something awful. The little devil told him to shut up and mind his own business before he got into something over his head. It _had_ killed livestock, after all…

Iolaus sighed and looked down at his prey, having made his decision.

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'I swear, Herc __must've__ rubbed off on me at some point,' _thought Iolaus, running through the forest. 

With distaste, the hunter noted the messy, obvious trail left by the group ahead of him. It was like someone _wanted_ him to follow it.

The thought made Iolaus stop in his tracks. Did they want someone to follow?

Iolaus was still wondering when something caught the fading sun. It glinted on the ground. Completely alone and in the opposite direction of the trail he was currently following.

The hunter, forgetting about the men he was tracking, went over to investigate.

_'Smells a bit like… brimstone,'_ he thought, squatting next to it.

It looked like a drop of molten silver, about an inch and a half in diameter. It took a moment to register, but Iolaus managed to recognize it as blood.

_'Dragon blood,'_ he amended. _'So they __did__ wound it.'_

The sun slid behind the horizon within the minute, leaving the sky with a violet-orange glow. Even that faded. Then the full moon began to rise.

Suddenly, the silver droplet began to glow. It was so dim at first, that Iolaus thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but as the moon got higher, the brighter the drop of blood glowed.

Another spot caught his attention, exactly the way it'd been captured a few minutes ago.

"Tartarus, they _did_ get it good," Iolaus let out a low whistle as he looked at the undisturbed, glowing trail laid out before him.

Iolaus stood, adjusting the his pack and bow. He'd stopped back at his camp, as he figured he'd probably need his things. With no more thought, the hunter was off.

He took it a little faster than he had been going before, since following the new rail was childishly easy.

It led uphill, towards the mountains fencing off half the forest, and the further Iolaus went, the rockier the terrain got. The amount of blood steadily grew.

_'I just hope I'm not too late.'_

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Author's Rants: So… I'm hoping that by typing this… thing… out, I'll be hit with sudden inspiration on where to go with it… (FF.N are jerks. I had this thing all nice and typed out. Indented and everything. Then I went and posted it and it looks all shitty. What ever happened to proper formatting? I really worked hard on that, too...)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Dragon's Blood -- Chapter Two_

_**Author's Notes:**_ Not much. :grabs sword: Onwards, men! Tally-hooo!!!

_**Disclaimer:**_ Notta thing.

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After about an hour of running, the moon was high in the sky, and Iolaus couldn't believe he was the only one following this gleaming trail of silver blood. Surely the group of hunters _had_ to have seen it…

In the silence of the night, Iolaus heard a twig or branch snap loudly. He stopped and turned, scanning what he could in the darkness (which wasn't much). Satisfied for the moment, he began to run again.

The blonde hadn't gone more than a few steps when he heard another branch break, louder this time. Iolaus turned and looked around again.

_'Someone is here,'_ thought Iolaus; he bent to retrieve the knife from his boot, completely forgetting about the sword sticking out oif his leather travelling pack.

On his way back up, something hard cracked across the back of his skull and Iolaus saw stars. Instinctively, the hunter's arm shot out behind him and he slashed with the knife. Someone grunted, then hot blood washed over his hand.

"Sonnuva bacchae!" another voice yelled, "He killed 'im without a thought!"

Iolaus blinked hard to clear his vision. He took a couple steps back while the rest of them were still stunned about their fallen comrade. He managed to count eight guys, including the one on the ground, holding a bleeding gut.

_'Nine guys,'_ he amended, buckling when something mashed into his right side. He fell to his knees, gasping and holding his ribs.

"Cheap shot…! Attacking from behind!" he panted.

He feigned being dizzy and leaned forward, bracing himself with his right hand flat on the ground. Iolaus stay there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then he threw himself into a backwards donkey-kick. His left foot connected with what felt like a kneecap and he felt it crack. The guy howled and was on the ground. A club thudded to the dirt next to him.

Two guys hauled him to his feet by his shoulders, relieved him of his pack and made him face one of the ugliest, smelliest men Iolaus had ever laid eyes on.

He stood about three heads taller than Iolaus and was wearing the most armor. The man smiled, baring crooked, yellow-and-brown teeth. He stepped closer. He pulled his arm back and let a punch fly straight at Iolaus' nose. Blood began to gush from it almost immediately.

"Why are you tracking our dragon, boy?" he demanded, yanking his head back by the hair so that Iolaus was forced to look up through watering eyes.

"Who says it's _your_ dragon?" spit Iolaus, spraying the leader with scarlet.

That little comment earned him a hard knee to the stomach from one of the guys holding him. He doubled over, trying to breathe through the pain in his stomach and the pain in his chest.

"_I_ say it's our dragon, you little piece of dung," the obvious leader hissed, yanking Iolaus' head back up. His face was close to Iolaus' and his breath made him want to puke. But that 'little' comment was the last straw.

"Okay, that does it."

Iolaus launched himself into a back-flip, using the guys holding him as leverage. His boot heel caught the leader's head and everyone heard a loud 'SNAP!'.

Once he landed, Iolaus grasped a handful of each man's armor and yanked down with all his weight, smashing their heads together. All three men hit the ground at the same time, unconscious.

The other five looked at each other, then at the blonde warrior standing in the center of four sprawled out bodies. They looked at each other again. For a moment, Iolaus believed they would run.

Then they all smiled that same menacing smile.

_'Never fails,'_ he thought, bracing himself.

A split second later, they all roared as one and charged at him. The first guy swung a club over his head, which was easily dodged and used against him as it thudded against his greasy scalp. He was then slammed to the ground with another backwards kick as he went by.

Two came at him at the same time, slashing wildly with swords, one of which he recognized as his own. Iolaus ducked underneath them and feinted right. The one on the left spun around and swung his rusty blade so widely, his buddy in front of Iolaus had to block the blow.

Iolaus reached over the man's shoulder and grabbed his hand, finally gaining control of his own sword. The blonde blocked another blow from below, then ducked under an overhead jab, taking his human shield with him. Iolaus jerked the sword away and jabbed it into the other swordsman's gut. He drove an elbow to his shield's head while he was still bent over, dropping him to the ground next to the other groaning man.

Something pinched his left leg hard, making him swear. He went to brush it off, and his hand hit something hard. Iolaus looked down and saw a crossbow bolt sticking out of the leather of his pants; it was embedded in the flesh below the back of his knee.

He gritted his teeth, took hold of the bolt as close as he could to the head and yanked it out. He choked back a strangled sounding yell and spun around with fire in his eyes as he looked for the shooter.

There. Abut fifteen paces to his left, the guy was fumbling to reload the crossbow.

Quicker than the eye could follow, Iolaus flicked his knife up and sent it shooting into the bowman's throat, as deadly and as accurately as any bow the hunter ever shot. The last guy gurgled as he fell, and the partially prepared crossbow clattered as the string snapped loose.

_'Finally,'_ thought Iolaus, going down on one knee, panting. _'Now to find that dragon.'_

He glanced around the area until he located the things the men had taken from him. Iolaus gathered them up, sutffed them back into his bag, slung it over his shoulders and was off.

_

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_**Author's Notes:**_ I am fucking _proud_ of this fight. And that knife throw was just S.E.X.Y. I saw that in my mind so clearly.. Lol. Review please! 


	3. Chapter 3

_Dragon's Blood -- Chapter Three_

_**Author's Notes:**_ Not much, since I'm bangin' these out one after another…

_**Disclaimer:**_ Again, I own nothing, thanks for the lovely reminder. :kills self:

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A half an hour went by, with the terrain getting rockier and harder for Iolaus to take with his injured leg. Let alone uphill. The adrenaline in Iolaus' system ebbed away, leaving his whole body throbbing. 

He was till running because some of those hunters were merely unconscious, and if he judged them correctly, they _would_ be after the dragon, as well as himself. He hoped he was wrong.

Iolaus winced when his leg flared. Blood still welled from the wound, puddling into his boot. He staggered when he stepped on a loose rock and fell hard. Red clouded his vision when his chest hit the ground. He lay there for a minute, panting, fighting to stay conscious.

In the very back of his mind, a little voice told him that he was an idiot for climbing up a mountain without at least a rope. He _almost_ wished Autolycus were here with all his grapple hooks, cords and whatever the hell else he had stuffed up his sleeves. Then Iolaus remembered how much the thief liked to hear himself talk and didn't wish he was there anymore.

_'Oh, well. You're here on your own, so deal with it,'_ Iolaus told himself, getting to his knees unsteadily with a groan. Blood trickled down the back of his neck from the wound to his head and he grimaced as he wiped it away.

He dragged himself to his feet and started off again. He didn't realize he was going a little slower now. It didn't matter. He'd been up this mountain once before and knew the ground would be leveling out soon.

_'Or now!'_ Iolaus stumbled as the ground abruptly righted it. He almost landed in the dirt again, Iolaus managed to stay standing this time. Not without a price of course. The impact jarred his ribs and he gasped for air again.

There were a few deep caves on this ledge that overlooked the forest beautifully. They'd be a perfect hiding place for, say, a dragon.

He knelt down to try to relieve the pressure on his injured leg, if only for a moment. Iolaus' head seemed light and fluffy..

"Is anyone here?" he called out, fighting off a wave of dizziness. "I'm here to help!"

A low growl erupted from the cave in front of Iolaus and he froze. Two glowing green points of light about a foot apart appeared.

"I'm here to help…" he repeated. "There was a group of hunters… I took care of them… I hope…"

To himself, Iolaus' voice sounded very far away, and he knew he was going to pass out very soon. If he could just stay awake a few minutes longer…

Another growl and the points of light bobbed in the darkness. A nod. Iolaus hauled himself to his feet, gasping at the sudden pain the movement caused. He pivoted on his good leg to scan his surroundings for unwanted tails. The last thing he wanted was to have led those hunters straight here. There was no way he'd be able to take on even one of them in his current state.

Iolaus opened his blue eyes as wide as they would go, trying to take in as much light as he could when he entered the cave. It wasn't enough. He could barely see his bloody hand in front of his equally bloodied face (at least his nose had stopped bleeding.).

He had flint and tinder in his pack, that much he knew. But he'd have to go out and gather firewood; something he wasn't sure he could do at the moment. Iolaus rooted around through his pack until he pulled out the flint. The tinder was proving elusive.

"I'm gonna have to go find firewood," Iolaus said to the twenty or so foot long shadow.

The idea of him going out like this was laughable. If he went back out into the forest, he'd either a.) pass out in the woods and not make it back, or b.) encounter the group of hunters and they'd finish him off.

The blonde got to his feet with difficulty. Before he could go more than a step, a stream of fire spouted from a mouth lined gleaming white, three-inch-long, razor-sharp teeth. Iolaus had the terrible thought that they could easily rip off his arm if the teeth's owner felt compelled to do so.

The line of fire ended, yet a ball of flame continued to burn on the floor. It crackled as merrily as if it were in a hearth on the beginning of Winter Solstice.

"Or that would work…"

The fire let him see just what he was getting into, and Iolaus almost passed out right there.

Instead of a twenty feet, the blue-white dragon was thirty, including the tail wrapped around the stalagmite. It's scales were about the size of Iolaus' fist and glittered in the firelight.

From the tip of its tale, to the base of its very long neck, short, dark blue spines erupted. As Iolaus' eyes followed them, he saw a streak of silver on a jet black, folded wing. A crossbow bolt, much like the one Iolaus'd been stuck with, was embedded painfully in the wing joint.

"Did they get you anywhere else?" he asked, rooting around again in his pack; this time for herbs and bandages.

With a soft whine, the dragon showed him a back foot, holding it close to the fire so Iolaus could see it clearly. Another bolt went through and through, just above the ankle.

"Bastards…" he mumbled, reminded of his own leg injury.

It may have been Iolaus' imagination, but it looked like the dragon nodded it's triangular head in agreement.

Iolaus took hold of the bolt and snapped it off as close to the skin as he dared, then put his other hand on the dragon's foot to hold it still. He noticed how sharp the claws were and estimated they could tear through pretty much anything they wanted to.

"Okay," he said, looking up. "I'm going to slide this out, clean it, and wrap it up, all right?"

Really, the hunter was talking to himself to help him focus, so it surprised the Tartarus out of him when he got a reply.

_"Do what you must, Little One," _

For some reason, the voice didn't alarm him. It came from deep within his mind, but he didn't recognize it as his own. It reminded him of the sound of rain pattering against the earth.

As steady as he could with shaking hands, Iolaus pushed the bolt towards himself and pulled it out of the dragon's lightly scaled, tender flesh. At the same time, another whine echoed throughout the cavern.

He bent close to examine the wound.

Before his very eyes, the severed tendon stretched to connect again, chords of red muscle wormed their way towards each other and the blue skin melted back together. Tiny, ice-blue scales began to bud over the newly healed area.

Iolaus tossed a glance at the herbs and bandages he'd laid out and smiled a little.

"Guess we won't be needing those," he mumbled to himself.

He eyed the other bolt in the wing joint. It still bled.

"They knew where to get you, didn't they?" the blonde said.

The dragon rustled its wings and lowered the injured one to the floor. Iolaus took hold and leaned close.

_"Those mortals are descendants from a clan of dragon hunters, and know a dragon's weak points."_

"Were," corrected Iolaus. "There were three left when I got away."

The head of the bolt was buried deep into the joint, Blood welled out. Iolaus grasped it by the base and looked up into the dragon's eyes. They reminded him of a lush forest under a full moon.

"This one is gonna be more difficult," he said. "I think the head of the bolt may have hit bone."

There wasn't much that he could do, considering the circumstances, but Iolaus checked the angle of the projectile, and then jerked it out. He prayed that the head would still be fixed to it. He didn't think he could stay awake long enough to dig it out.

He brought the arrow close to his face. His head went light with relief when he saw the pointed end. He tossed it to the ground with a clatter. Iolaus watched the wound heal itself seamlessly.

"Hah, good," he muttered.

_"Thank you, Little One" _

"I'm, uh, just gonna sit down for a minute…" he said, settling heavily onto the ground.

Iolaus' eyes clouded dangerously. The world tilted at a sickening angle. He groaned and scrabbled for hand holds on the rough cave floor. The dragon held out a claw, as if for a handshake. Without thinking, Iolaus grabbed hold. Instantly, the world righted itself.

_"You are badly injured, Little One."_

"I've had worse," Iolaus responded automatically.

_"I can return the act of healing, if you wish it."_

"How?"

With it's other claw, the dragon lifted a scale on its chest and slit the soft skin underneath. A large drop of silver blood seeped out.

_"I apologize, Little One. If we were at my home, I would offer you a goblet."_

"You mean I'm supposed to drink it?" asked Iolaus.

_"Yes, but make haste! While it's still hot!"_

Iolaus hesitated. He'd done a lot of strange things in his lifetime, but drinking blood definitely wasn't one of them.

_"Hurry, Little One. As it grows cool, the magic fades."_

A particularly nasty throb from his head made the decision for him. Iolaus leaned forward and gently lapped the blood away. It'd cooled just enough not to scald his tongue and had a taste that Iolaus couldn't even begin to describe. It tingled as it went down his throat. The feeling spread into his arms and legs, followed quickly to the tips of his fingers and toes. A pleasant, drowsy feeling was beginning to overtake him.

Now the dragon gripped Iolaus' hand to keep him upright. His own hands we suddenly lax and he could barely keep his eyes open.

_"Lie back. You are falling into a healing sleep." _

"Sleep…? For how long?" Iolaus struggled to keep his eyes open. If those hunters were on their way and he was unconscious… Panic made his heart flutter.

_"Peace, Little One. I will watch over you while you slumber. You will be safe. Do you trust me?"_

For some unexplainable reason, Iolaus _did_ trust this dragon. With his very life. The blonde nodded and lowered himself to the floor, with help from the dragon. He used his pack as a pillow.

_'I wonder if it has a name,'_ thought Iolaus, closing his eyes.

_"You cannot pronounce my name in your mortal tongue. The closest translation in your language is 'Ravenwing'"_

_'Ravenwing…'_ was Iolaus' final conscious thought.

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Author's Notes:**_ I love how Ravenwing talks! And I'm proud of this chapter! emails seemed to have been down. Did anyone else have a stretch where they didn't get any update notices? 


	4. Chapter 4

_Dragon's Blood -- Chapter Four_

_**Author's Notes:**_ I'm alive. I apologize for the lack of activity. I have no social skills and I'm obscenely lazy. I don't deserve to live. :bows: I'm also having no luck with my muse. I'll post as far as I can, since the story you're reading is not completed.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing, nor do I deserve to.

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It was only a half an hour before the fever began. The dragon gathered the small hunter to her side and covered him with a wing as the shivering began.

Though Iolaus' body was rather warm, Ravenwing barely felt the flush, as her own internal core temperature was much higher.

She did not fear for him, however. She knew the fever was a sign of the body repairing and cleansing itself. The sleep he was in would heal him with no risk of infection while his wounds closed.

The dragon nuzzled the top of the blonde's head fondly.

When Iolaus had looked into her eyes for that brief moment, she'd seen all she'd needed to.

This man was stupidly brave, quick to accept a challenge, despite the odds, fiercely loyal to one called 'Hercules', and finally, had come looking for an injured dragon with no thought to his own well-being. He was one of the purest beings she'd ever met.

Ravenwing's keen ears caught the sounds of bones grinding together in the vicinity of Iolaus' chest. He let out a soft groan, and his heart sped up a little.

Now that Iolaus had tasted her blood, the magic in it would allow them to communicate without having to maintain physical contact. He would be aware of that when he awoke. It was something, she knew, that would be important for future events.

Iolaus' heart rate slowed to normal. Ravenwing smiled a dragon's smile. The healing, in itself, was something that happened quickly. It was the rest of the body that needed to catch up. In another few minutes, the magic sleep he was in would change to a normal one to give his body a chance to rest.

The mortal's breathing steadied and he sighed softly. Ravenwing felt the pain and tenseness start to leave his frame.

"_All is well, Iolaus. No harm shall come to you."_

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"I still can't believe we missed out on that dragon's pelt because of that arrogant punk!"

A low voice, closer to a growl, really, caught Hercules' attention. He put the spoon back into his bowl of boar stew and turned around to scan the rest of the dark tavern for who had spoken. Only about half of the uneven, scrubby tables were full.

"At least a couple of us got 'im before he got away. He could be dead by now. He wasn't in very good shape," said a second.

Hercules located a group of three dirty men, clad in black armor. They sat in a corner. The only light came from a single, stubby white candle melting in the middle of the table. Each of them nursed a mug of ale and a facial injury.

Curiously, Hercules went back to his stew , keeping his ears open. He hadn't heard reports of a dragon in these parts for almost seven years.

"Or… if that little blonde bugger manage to meet up with her…"said the third. "She could have finished what we started and killed 'im. She's vicious like that, you know."

There was a general murmur of agreement amongst them, each thinking of the cow, sheep and pigs they were still missing.

"Fought like a bloody demon, he did, though, dinnit he? Never saw no one take out another throwin' a knife like that before."

Little blonde? Fighting like a demon? Knife throwing? The increasingly accurate descriptions of his friend made Hercules' skin crawl. Surely Iolaus was all right…? He would have come back to town if he wasn't.

"Wonder what he was doin' in the middle of the forest, anyway?"

"Probably hunting, you idijit. Dincha see his bow? There was blood on his hands, too. Way the sun shown on 'im, he looked like a bloody angel or sommat like that."

"Careful, mate, you sound like you bleedin' _fancy_ 'im!"

Flesh met flesh and the man who spoke grunted.

"Fancy _that_, why doncha?"

"Gerroff me!"

Hercules could stand it no longer. He abandoned his stew to make his way to the corner table. The men stared at him, as if sizing him up.

"I heard you were looking for a dragon. Care to elaborate?" Hercules said, with the air of one commenting on the weather.

The biggest man, who had a heavily bruised chin, glared at Hercules.

"What's it to you, you nosy git?"

"Well," began Hercules, resigning having to go through it step by step. "aside from the fact that it's a dragon, the man you're describing sounds a bit like a friend of mine." Hercules shrugged. "He's always getting into trouble."

"If he's your friend, mister, you'd best get after him sharpish, 'cause he dinnit look so good when he took off." Hercules recognized the voice who commented on the knife throwing as belonging to a younger man with a black and blue forehead. "He may have defeated us, but we got our licks in, dinnit we, boys?"

This was backed up by snickers from the other two men. Hercules smiled and laughed with them, grabbing two of them by the shoulders. Instantly, his cheery manner was gone.

"Tell me what you know," he hissed, squeezing hard.

The two men yelped in surprise and pain. They began to babble incoherently about a bizarre series of events, each trying to drown out the other. Finally, the big man with the bruised chin yelled: "QUIET!" His goons instantly went silent, along with the rest of the tavern. They stilled and Hercules relaxed his grip.

"What do you want to know?" asked the leader.

"What was this guy wearing, for one. And was he wearing any distinctive jewelry? Earrings, maybe?" demanded Hercules.

"Yeah, he was!" supplied the man in Hercules' left hand. "Some sort of weird shaped medallion, I think. And a ragged old vest."

Hercules' stomach clenched. His suspicions were confirmed.

"What did you do to him?" he asked quietly.

The man in Hercules' right hand, who'd compared Iolaus to a demon, spoke now.

"Orcus caught 'im in the head right away wiv a club. Got 'im real good. Lotsa blood from that one. Course, he got 'imself snuffed out right quick after that. Someone got 'im the ribs after that. Me and my mate went after 'him wiv our swords. He used me as a shield, killed me mate and put me out wiv an elbow to the head. I came to in time to see 'im feelin' up a bloody leg and whippin' that knife into Arjas' throat. Poor kid never had a chance. He fell, got up, and then just limped off. Prolly after that damn dragon…"

"Which way did he go?"

"Towards the mountains, probably, said the man in Hercules' left hand.

Hercules released the two men with a shove.

"If you three are still here when I come back, I'll come after you, understand?" threatened Hercules.

"Hey now, just who the bloody hell do you think you are, talkin' to us like that?!" demanded the leader, his face flushed with anger.

The demigod leaned in close to the other man, glaring. They were literally nose-to-nose.

"I'm Hercules."

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Author's Notes: Thanks for your reviews before:bows:**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Dragon's Blood -- Chapter Five_

_**Author's Notes:**_ You know, I don't think I'm going by Greece's climate in this fic. I think I'm going with New Zealand's climate, where the show was actually shot. I think Greece is warm, isn't it? … shrug Oh well. Weather's weather. ((I'm gonna get killed for that, lol.))

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing and you know it.

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Iolaus awoke, feeling warm and toasty. And better than he'd ever felt in his life. His leg, ribs, and head no longer pounded. He felt brand new. Ready to take on anything, if he had to…

He opened his eyes and noticed he was covered with something big, black and leathery.

'_A wing,'_ he realized, upon closer inspection. He studied it closer, moving his head this way and that when he noticed the hidden rainbow within the blackness. _'Ravenwing, indeed.'_

"_Welcome back, Iolaus." _

The voice was like a missed friend, and Iolaus was glad to hear it again. The vision of a clear brook running over smooth, round rocks entered his mind again.

"Thanks," he replied, noting that she didn't call him Little One. Oddly enough, he missed it.

"_When I was hatched, the Eldars of my clan took to calling me Ravenwing for that reason."_

Iolaus smiled when he felt her amusement flair. In fact, he felt a whole other presence in his mind. A presence, he knew, that was Ravenwing.

He stood up, stretching. Iolaus performed a few complicated looking kicks with his previously injured leg.

"_It is good to see you well."_

'_It's good to __be__ well,'_ Iolaus thought to her without thinking. Then he realized they weren't touching, yet he could still hear her. He froze in midkick, lowering his leg slowly.

Iolaus turned to her, questioningly. Cocking his head to the side, he looked like a puzzled puppy as he tried to work it out on his own. He quickly came to an obvious conclusion.

'_It was your blood, right?'_ he sent to her, enjoying the new freedom.

"_It was,"_ came her reply. Ravenwing nodded her great head, making even a small movement like that seem elegant. Her scales shifted to accommodate.

'_I thought I felt something different this morning. Besides being perfectly fine after a night like that, I mean.'_

"_You are one of the quickest to figure it out, Little One," _the dragon rumbled good-humoredly.

Iolaus couldn't hold back a smile when she called him that.

'_You know, I usually hate it when people call me little,' _he confessed to her.

She smiled her dragon's smile at him.

"_You like it when I do," _she teased gently.

'_I do,' _admitted Iolaus.

* * *

Hercules made his way through the tightly knit forest, shrugging his borrowed fur firmer around him. The weather was grey. It called for rain, and it was going to be a cold one. Hercules could already see his breath fogging in the air.

He finally made it to the general area here Iolaus said he would be camping. The demigod had yet to find a sign of his friend.

"Iolaus!" he shouted, not caring if someone else heard.

Hercules had heard the story the men back at the tavern told, and hoped they were exaggerating about the fight. He hoped to find his friend, sitting at a campfire cooking a fresh caught trout for breakfast, nursing no more than scrapes, bruises and maybe a wounded ego.

So intent on his ponderings, Hercules would have missed the small clearing, had he not tripped over the cold remains of a campfire. He turned an awkward looking pirouette to stay on his feet, thankful no one was around to see it. He steadied himself quickly and turned around to see what he stumbled over.

He got down to his knees for a closer look.

There was a ring of similar sized stones around the logs, creating a temporary fire ring, with a _diameter_ of about two feet. Hercules knew, on nights when Iolaus built the fire, he would rarely go larger than what he was looking at right now. The blackened logs clunked together as a half standing pyramid collapsed inward, unable to support themselves for any longer.

And Hercules was positive this spot was Iolaus' when he saw the bed of pine needles and leaves his friend had gathered. It was layered. Needles on the bottom for cushioning, leaves on the top to avoid poking. A simple, but useful trick if one had the time to gather all the needles they needed. It was something they learned in their Survival Class back at the Academy. ((Uh, sure…))

The demigod scanned the area for tracks of some kind.

There. Near a pair of crossed elm saplings. A circle of light footprints, as if the creator had turned a 360, perhaps looking for enemies… They went off east, towards the mountains.

* * *

That afternoon, Iolaus ventured outside for a look around, but not without exploring the cave, first. It was a big enough chamber they were in. It housed the dragon a little snugly, but she had enough room to maneuver her bulk around with relative ease.

At the mouth of the cave, just before it turned into a curving tunnel about forty feet long, there were two large stalagmites on either side.

As he came to the mouth of the cave, Iolaus had to blink at the grayish light coming from outside.

The sky was full of clouds, and the chilly air promised rain. The ground was still dry, indicating that it must not have started yet.

Iolaus made his way over to the spot where he'd first staggered to a halt last night. He took in all the locations of the trees that looked strong enough to hold a trap or sling. There were boulders around that looked big enough for two or three people to hide comfortably. Automatically, the hunter checked behind them (out of paranoia) and found nothing.

There was a large smear of something red in the gravel next to a short ledge. On a small, smooth rock next to it, there was another in the shape of a boot toe. The blonde glanced down at his feet.

Yep. Sure enough, the toe of his own left boot was a sticky red. He figured. Iolaus looked over the little ledge and stared. Every few feet in the gravel, he could see a bloody footprint.

'_How much blood did I lose last night, anyway?'_ wondered Iolaus. He noticed the calf of his boot was encrusted with dried blood. _'Ouch.'_

"_You were in bad shape when you arrived," _Ravenwing's voice echoed in his mind. _"Nearly a third of your blood lies in the forest."_

'_I thought I was going to die,'_ admitted Iolaus, concentrating a little harder than necessary on the trees.

"_Your head wound alone was enough to make me wonder. It was surprisingly resilient to the magic in my blood."_

Uncomfortable, suddenly, talking about his brush with death, Iolaus pushed down an oncoming wave of guilt at what Hercules must be thinking. He looked back out over the treetops and wondered what he was doing to a moment.

'_Is there a stream around here?'_ he asked her.

There was so much blood on him, he was debating on just jumping into said stream fully clothed to get the worst of it off. Even his upper left arm was coated in blood. Which was odd, because Iolaus couldn't recall having been struck there.

Iolaus moved the arm closer to his face and rubbed some of the coppery-colored flakes off where they began. Sure enough, there was a very faint, very thin scar underneath, almost as though it were made by something small and fast.

'_An arrow?'_ Iolaus wondered to himself.

Upon closer inspection, to the hunter's dismay, there was a clean rip, ending in a missing chunk near the scar. Something clicked in his mind.

"Oh, sonnuva bacchae, he got me more than once!" he swore indignantly, kicking the gravel.

"_What's the matter?" _asked Ravenwing.

"Nothing important," he said, the slightest bit hollow as he wondered if he was losing his touch. _'About that stream…?'_

"_To the West, not far from here. On quiet days in the forest you can hear it. Today, I fear, is not one of those days."_

Iolaus turned back to the cave. Ravenwing was not fully outside. Only her head and neck were visible, the rest of her was hidden in shadows.

'_Ah, well. It would figure. I guess I can wait for a few more seconds,' _shrugged Iolaus, looking up at the gray clouds.

Sure enough, a drop of water landed on his shoulder as the sky seemed to open up. Rain fell, thick, hard and refreshing onto the forest below them. Iolaus whipped his vest off and spread it out on a nearby boulder so the pounding rain could work out the blood. The blonde bent forward, flipping his mass of curls upside down to get at even more matted blood.

Ravenwing watched the spot turn pink as the as scarlet washed away. The rain left his leather pants shiny and clean. His left boot was slowly changing to match the same shade of brown as the right one.

Iolaus turned his face to the sky, smiling at being clean again. He jogged back to the cave entrance, leaving his vest on the boulder. He stopped just inside the cave and shook himself like a dog. The soaking blonde hair sprayed water all over the wall and Ravenwing. She snorted softly.

"_You did that intentionally!" _she accused playfully.

Her voice was amused and she bared her teeth in what Iolaus knew was a smile.

"Pretty much," he said aloud, sitting down to watch the rainy haze falling over the rest of their surroundings.

Still smiling, Ravenwing settled down next to him.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ Okay, so , lame. I know. I don't care. 


End file.
